The Death of Vilas
by Andrew3
Summary: A story about the Darkest Knight duel, told from Vilas' point of view


The Death of Vilas

by Andrew

He slammed his fists again and again into the punching dummy. All around him the sounds of the training arena rang clear. The grunting and groaning, the clang of weights and the screams of pain, the clashing sizzle of lightsabers. The cracking of fists and feet against skin and bone. The smell of blood and sweat was thick in the hot, humid air. 

He kept beating mercilessly on the dummy, kicking, punching, kicking, punching, imagining the dummy staring at him with emerald eyes, mocking him. With a feral scream, and a roundhouse kick, Vilas tore the dummy's head completely away from it's overstuffed body. He breathed deeply, flexing is biceps and using his anger to fuel his power. He was tired and worn, wanting to sit down and rest, but not wanting to show any weakness in front of other students. 

Vilas had been exercising for eight straight hours, lifting weights, doing stretches, running, practicing lightsaber drills, and unarmed combat drills. He had been training and working for years perfecting his skills, one day hoping to be the leader of a powerful army of Dark Jedi. Now, all that was being threatened by a lowly piece of gutter slime. A worthless trash collector that was no more worthy to be a Dark Jedi then any other hunk of garbage that washed up on their doorstep. 

Vilas lashed out at the dummy's severed head with his foot, and it went sailing across the room into one of the combat pits. He grabbed his towel and wiped his dark hair as he walked toward the locker room.

Vilas stood in the shower with his head against the tiles, feeling the hot water pounding on him. He watched the blood from his knuckles swirl down the drain. It has to be soon, he thought. The attack on the Jedi Academy will happen soon, and we can't do it without a Darkest Knight.

After a few minutes he turned the shower off and came out wrapped in a towel. He went over to one of the sinks and began shaving and brushing his teeth. In the mirror, he could see several of the other Dark Jedi walking in and out of the shower, talking and joking as teenage guys do in locker rooms. Most of them were students, coming in from a daily run or weight cycle before returning to their chambers to meditate. There were a few veteran Dark Jedi, scarred and muscular with prominent tattoos of bat-winged skulls and Sith hyroglyphics.

Greatest warriors the galaxy will ever see, Vilas thought. But they needed a leader. A strong, ruthless leader who's not afraid to bark orders and wet his hands with Rebel blood. Not some hesitant trash collector. 

Vilas pulled on a jumpsuit and walked down the long corridors of blank doors to Level E. When he got there he noticed that the door had not been replaced. Someone had scratched the familiar bat-winged skull drawing in the door with the words DEATH ROW above it. Vilas figured that it was all right, and rather appropriate, since Level E were the luxury suites reserved for the elite of the Shadow Academy's troops. The darkest Dark Jedi, the crack Stormtroopers, the ace TIE Fighter pilots, the deadliest of the new Nightsisters. Vilas walked down the hallway to his room, passing several open doors on the way. Speakers pumped out different sounds and he could hear the troops laughing and talking. Vilas would have gladly joined in if he wasn't so tired. 

Vilas's room was one of the best, of course, with a bedroom, a living room, a kitchenette and a refresher. He liked it especially, because since he was so highly placed, he didn't have to share his room with anyone. He flopped down on his bed, wondering if he should go through a Jedi relaxation technique. No, he thought, enjoy sleep while you can get it. 

Vilas felt his mind wander back to Dathomir. He could see the blue mountain people thundering across the plains, smell the sweet air and roasting meat. He could hear the rumble of distant thunder and the wind in the grass. Strong, proud rancors carrying strong, proud women in head dresses. Reptilian armor glistening in the sun. Ahh.

He thought of Garowyn. When I become the Darkest Knight, he thought, she will see me as worthy enough to be her husband. I'll get the _Shadow Chaser_ back and present it to her as a wedding gift, along with the heads of the ones who took it. But she will be mine. 

The thought comforted Vilas until he fell asleep. 

***

When he woke up, Vilas felt refreshed and recharged. He stretched out, changed his clothes, and headed for the mess hall for some breakfast. He had dreamed of dark and terrible things, mixed with sweet, wonderful things, but the memory is fading, as it usually does with his dreams. 

As he keyed the mess hall door open, Vilas got a sudden icy tingle in the back of his neck. It's going to happen today, he thought. He knew it had to happen today. 

The mess hall was a strange sight to behold around morning meal. One one side were the new trainees. They were sitting in perfect rows, eating their food, two cans of stormtrooper rations and six carbo protein biscuits along with twenty ounces of water, quickly and quietly under the eye of their teachers. They were all clean cut humans, dressed in black robes with charcoal jumpsuits underneath. 

On the other side were the older students and veterans. They were wearing leather armor, reptilian armor, jumpsuits, flightsuits of various colors, bathrobes, pajamas, and a few guys were in their boxers. They were talking, laughing, yelling, wrestling around while devouring platters of steak, eggs, bacon, pancakes, pastries, doughnuts, and fruit with gallons of milk, juice, hot chocolate, and fresh caf.

Vilas walked over to where a cluster of young Nightsisters and Dark Jedi were eating and telling stories. He saw on the other end was Zekk, sitting with Tessio, Damien, Dareb, and several other of Zekk's followers. Even though Vilas had a definite majority in his camp, Zekk had more of the more powerful Dark Jedi backing him up. It had caused Vilas to abandon the idea of a hallway assassination a long time ago.

As he ate his breakfast with his strongest followers, he found his gaze kept wandering back to Zekk. Oh, how he hated him. He wished he had just shot him and threw him off the edge the night they found him on Coruscant. He had no idea and random piece of street trash could have so much potential.

Vilas finished his breakfast quickly and left the mess hall for the training arena. He could feel the green eyes boring into his back.

***

Vilas rolled his shoulders and pulled on his leather armor. He had removed the heat resistant armor plates to allow him more flexibility for the coming battle. He knew that it would be in the Zero-G Arena at the hub of the Shadow academy, and he didn't want the plates to get in the way of the movement. 

Most importantly, He knew he would fight Zekk.

He had that tingling in his spine since he woke up an it had been growing stronger up to this point. He had his lightsaber, and years worth of training. It all came down to this. 

The airlock in front of him hissed open and he heard Brakiss's booming voice.

"This will be I fight to the death between Zekk, and Vilas!"

Vilas ignited his lightsaber and pushed toward the center of the arena. He stretched out with the Force and felt Zekk's anxiety. He couldn't help but yell, "If you surrender now, young trash collector, I may only cripple you!" Vilas laughed as Zekk's face flushed. He was going to enjoy this kill in every way possible, before claiming his title. 

"If you think victory is going to be that easy, Vilas, I'll defeat you before you can blink!" Zekk threw a medium sized rock at him and went tumbling backwards from the momentum. Vilas easily dodged the rock and laughed. This was truly pathetic. "Is that the best you can do, trash collector?" He yelled. Suddenly there was a sharp blow on his shoulder, sending him spinning around. The little gutter cleaner used the Force to rebound the rock! It hadn't hurt, but it surprised the hell out of him. He would have to watch that.

Vilas spun through midair until his feet found a purchase on a chunk of machinery and he pushed off. Zekk was already sailing toward him and the slammed into each other, their lightsabers humming and clashing. Zekk used the momentum and ricochet off Vilas while Vilas tried to turn and pursue. He saw a engine cowling of some kind and he pushed off, seeing Zekk's back turned. Just as he swept at him, Zekk curled his legs up and avoided the deadly energy blade. But it was close, Vilas managed to put a nick in Zekk's armor. First cut! Vilas thought. He turned to say something mocking when suddenly his whole body was in pain as something large smashed into him. Transparisteel shards rained around him and he saw Zekk floating back away.

Vilas felt his anger rise and the power of the Dark Side wash over him, as he hacked through the greenhouse module. He pushed himself off one of the sections and soared toward Zekk, his lightsaber humming through the air. Just as he swung downward, Zekk suddenly was thrown away form him. The momentum took Vilas in a spin as he continued to sail across the arena. 

This is stupid! He thought. If they're going to choose the best, why don't they just throw us both in a fighting pit until one of us is dead? Or a walkway over a bottomless chasm? When's the next time we are going to be in a zero-G battle?

As he spun, Vilas wished he hadn't eaten so much breakfast. But he got a hold of a handle on a large metal trunk and tucked his feet under him, braced on the surface of the box. He looked across the arena to where Zekk may be hiding. He knew that if he reached out with his senses, Zekk would be alerted that his hiding place was discovered. Instead, Vilas just let his gaze sweep across the arena, quickly discounting places he couldn't be. Not behind him, not to far away, behind something large, but not spinning in space-THERE! There was a large meteoroid near the center that was perfect. Vilas pushed off the trunk and flew toward the large rock. Just as he came on it, he swung down and cleaved it right in half. Sure enough, there was Zekk, just barely pushing out of the way. 

Vilas pushed off one of the halves and locked blades with Zekk, staring into his emerald eyes. There was no way Vilas was going to push off, for they would float away and it might give Zekk a better chance to hide again. But then he spotted a length of heavy pipe, and he remembered Zekk's rock trick. He reached out with the Force and pulled it toward Zekk like a spear. It slammed into the small of his back with such force that he lost his lightsaber! 

Vilas grinned wickedly and pushed off something behind him, a piece of the meteoroid that he just cut, and plunged toward Zekk. But Zekk grabbed the pipe and swung it hard toward Vilas, spinning on the other end. 

Oh please, Vilas thought, He was no match for me when he had his weapon, now he wants to beat me with a stupid pipe? 

Vilas slashed off a piece of the pipe and slashed again, ready to cut Zekk in half, but he missed completely and Zekk stabbed him in the side with the end of the pipe. For a split second, Vilas figured he was either trying to push him away or cut him, but the he felt the molten end of the pipe hit his ribs. Pain shot up and down his side and he screamed, grabbing the pipe and tearing it away form his body. In the prosses he threw Zekk away from him and he went sailing off in the other direction to collect himself. 

He saw two joined cargo containers and decided they were as good a place as any to hide.

When he got to them, he looked at is side. The leather had been seared through and his skin had been burned ad blackened. It was just beginning to develop into a dull, throbbing pain, and would soon have blisters. 

Suddenly Vilas felt Zekk reaching out with the force to search for him. Vilas remembered in his childhood, how you would capture a wuffa. Lure it out and be waiting right there.

Vilas pulled himself into one of the cargo compartments and pulled the cover down. Then he reached out with his mind and found a small piece of metal. He started tapping it on the side of the cargo compartment. 

Sure enough, a moment later he felt Zekk grab the cargo compartment and pull himself around it.

Vilas took a deep breath. He felt like a sabercat, muscled coiled, ready to pounce. He put his thumb right on his lightsaber switch. This is it, he thought. Zekk didn't expect a thing. Vilas was ready to take his place as leader of the Dark Jedi, and put this trash collector in his place. Vilas thought of Garowyn. He knew she was watching. Maybe now she would think he was worthy enough to be her husband. A grin spread across his face at the thought. 

He tucked his legs under him, and savoring the moment, burst from the cargo container, igniting his lightsaber........

THE END

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